Jan’s Flash Manifesto

As readers of my last blog might remember I’ve been writing a Flash Manifesto (womanifesto? proclamation? pronouncement?) Nah manifesto will have to do. I’ve been doing this because I’m doing a PhD by Creative Practice which involves writing a novella-in-flash and critical commentary about the use of space, statis and the blank page. But how can I describe what space is doing in and in between my flash fictions, (as well as what novella-in-flash is), if I can’t clearly state what flash fiction is in the first place?

Everyday definitions differ a lot despite the fact that flash is increasingly popular with writers, is taught at many unis as part of undergrad creative writing degrees and is offered by bazillions of writer’s workshops to fee-paying customers. And there are flash competitions galore to enter that charge for the privilege, so if money is changing hands in the world of flash, then surely there should be some sort of agreed starting point as to what it formally is. And by this I don’t mean rules, I mean a shared agreement about what it is to avoid misunderstanding and bad advice.

To illustrate this lack of clarity I did some internet searching using my default search engine set to AI mode. This Co-pilot AI bot which after all scans the infinite sea that is the world wide web, stealing from everything written about the topic then condensing it down into a few sentences should be able to provide a general overview that’s real, I thought. This is what is said when I asked it what is flash fiction? ‘Flash fiction is a very short, self-contained story that delivers a complete narrative in under 1,500 words, often focusing on a single moment, character, or idea. Despite its compact size, it retains all the essential elements of a traditional story: a plot, conflict, and a satisfying shift or twist.’ Well that’s a strong disagree from me.

Google in AI mode says, ‘Flash fiction is a style of extreme brevity, usually defined as stories under 1,000 words, and sometimes as short as a single sentence‘.

Flash Fiction is not even listed in the OED or Miriam Webster online dictionaries. Dictionary.com says, ‘Flash fictions are very short works of fiction that are typically no longer than a couple of pages and may be as short as one paragraph.’ The free dictionary by Farlex says ‘flash is a genre of fiction in which stories are characterized by extreme brevity.’

Wikipedia says (bless it’s cotton socks), ‘Flash fiction  is a brief fictional narrative   that still offers character and plot development. Some commentators have suggested that flash fiction possesses a unique literary quality in its ability to hint at or imply a larger story. Varieties are sometimes defined by word count, including the six-word story, the 280-character story (“twitterature“), the “dribble” (also known as the “minisaga“, 50 words), and the “drabble” (also known as “microfiction”, 100 words).

Not a right lot of agreement then, even as to size, and the Wiki description is the only one that hints flash might have qualitative characteristics, and may include more than one form of brief story. All this general lack of clarity and agreement is one of the reasons I decided to do this manifesto (well that and the suggestion made by one of my supervisors) and I have arrived at it by researching: online journals, comps, practitioner guides with scholarly intros; reading what few and far between scholarly discussions I can find in literary peer-reviewed journals; using my own 10 years worth of experience writing more than 300 published pieces of flash in many shapes and sizes, and seeing what other practitioners think.

To get numerical limits sorted first, I researched flash comps to see what they ask for in their submission criteria, and many ask for entries way over 1000 words, some even as much as 2000 and most offer no direction other than wordcount. I also looked at e-zines and story print magazines that ask for submissions of flash, and though most ask for stories below 1000 words, quite a few ask for stories (which they call flash) of up to 1500 words. I found one asking for flashes up to 2000 words. I have therefore decided to go with what Smokelong Quarterly, Stories Archive – SmokeLong Quarterly, and Bath Flash Fiction Award, Bath Flash Fiction Award | International Rolling Flash Fiction Competition say. These two platforms, the first a respected flash magazine and the second a respected competition, also offer flash information, training, workshops, craft advice, interviews with flash authors and many examples of flash of all shapes, sizes and lengths. Both are trusted, prestigious and expert, and both present flash as being stories of 1000 words and under. Also, to my mind, narratives above 1000 words feel too much in the vicinity of short story form to truly be flash fiction. That’s not to say there can’t be flash-like short stories just as there can be short story-esque flash fictions, but the cut off point of 1000 words feels right to me, and this is my flash manifesto – so there it is!

But what is the cut-off point in the other direction? How short can a flash get and still have narrative movement or at the very least imply a context in which narrative movement might happen? Well I reckon it’s six words. You can defo get, or imply narrative movement in 6 words. Here are some of my comp winning 6 word stories to show this.

‘New heart, new lungs, same addiction’, ‘Broken heart seeks builder for reconstruction, ‘One marriage, two relationships, three kids’.

I haven’t been able to do this in five words or less, and haven’t found any flashes on-line on in print that have five or less words. That’s wordcount sorted then. Flash fictions, are stories between 6 and 1000 words which tell a story that either has narrative movement or suggest a context in which narrative movement might happen. But what about the much more difficult to pin down and under-described qualitative characteristics of flash fiction?

Older expert, how-to guides don’t help much. The intro to My Very End of the Universe – five novellas-in-flash and a study of the form, says ‘Flash is characterised by, ‘Compression, immediacy and tension…the concision of poetry with the narrative tools of fiction,’ (Beckel and Rooney, 2028, E-reader location 120 of 2025). I can agree with most of that except for the immediacy thing because flash fictions, especially longer ones can span narrative eons, but even if I agreed with the whole statement, there’s much, much more to say. The Rose Metal Press Field Guide to Writing Flash Fiction (2009), published when the term ‘flash’ was not yet the default name for short-short fictions, seems to hold the notion that to try to define flash would somehow constrain and reduce it. The editor says in her introduction entitled, In pursuit of the short, short story. “‘Each drop encases its own separate note, the way each drop engulfs its own blue pearl of light.’ This description of rain, from Stuart Dybek’s story ‘Nighthawks’ is as close to a definition of flash fiction as I can personally offer. A successful flash enchants us, each small story successfully rendered, engulfing us for a brief moment – in a ‘flash’…in its own brand of light or truth. And the effects linger on, sometimes for decades. To offer a more complete, hard-edged definition is virtually impossible. In the end, a flash is just a story in miniature, a work of art carved on a grain of rice.” (Masih, 2008, pp. X1).

Randal Brown says in A Pocket Guide to Flash Fiction, ‘There’s no agreed-upon definition, except perhaps the idea that its very short,’ (Brown, 2012 pp1). Jane Roberts writing in Wales Arts Review in 2015 says ‘…it is futile to attempt to define the exact universal boundaries of flash; these are wide-ranging.’

Expert (and wonderfully talented) practitioners also seem to feel the struggle defining flash characteristics. Tanya Hershman writing in answer to the question, ‘What is flash fiction?’ in Litro Magazine said, ‘Well, I don’t know. Really. I write flash fiction. I read flash fiction. But I can’t say definitively what it is.’ Luisa Valenzuela says, ‘I usually compare a novel to a mammal…the short story to a bird or fish; the micro-story to an insect (iridescent in the best cases).’ Lyrical analogies like this are useful as they give a flavour of the effects of flash on the reader, but, I want to understand and describe the techniques, the nuts and bolts that give rise to these effects. I prefer Ben Myers description, at least as far as micro flash fictions are concerned, ‘A successful flash fiction is a seed, planted in the readers imagination, which once there should grow and flourish.’

A more recent, scholarly article published in January 2024 in New Writing Journal by Shelley Roche-Jacques says this, ‘The idea of   flash   fiction   as a story in miniature is aesthetically pleasing and simple, but it does not quite get to the heart of the form. It is not the case, as Masih’s image suggests, that all the elements of the story exist on the page, shrunk down. I would suggest that different techniques and approaches are used in   flash   fiction   – and that this necessary ‘drive for innovation’ is part of the form’s growing appeal.’

I totally agree with this. Innovation is a key driver in my own flash fiction and lots of flash I love. Maybe this is why that, as a form, it seems to defy definition because it’s always morphing, always pushing boundaries and doing the opposite of what it did last week – thus making pinning down flash fiction’s formal paradigms a very tricky business indeed.

In the context of all this shifting difficulty then, here is my first draft flash manifesto (silent trumpet fanfare/ quiet drumroll. I’m in the graduate research centre at York St John typing this so I need to be a wee bit quiet). As I said previously this manifesto has its roots in my practical experience of writing flashes of all lengths from 6-1000 words and from reading the books mentioned above, but also from reading shed loads of other flash fictions, from entering (and sometimes winning) loads of competitions, and also from perspectives offered in Nancy Stohlman’s, engaging book Going Short: An Invitation to Flash Fiction and Michael Loveday’s practitioner’s guide, Unlocking the Novella-in-Flash.

This manifesto is a starting point not a definitive answer and it will, I expect, grow and morph as my flash research progresses. To extend Dan Myers metaphor, it is more seed than sapling and more sapling than mature plant.

Jan’s First-Draft Flash Manifesto

1.Flash Fiction is an umbrella term for often formally different fictions of between 6-1000 words that are nearly always experimental in some way in terms of language, poetics, plot construction, on-the-page presentation, genre or character development.

2.Longer flash fictions between 500-1000 words are structurally often short, short stories that either conform to or experiment with Freytag’s pyramid and therefore have: initial exposition, rising action, climax, falling action and a denouement/resolution. As flash is inherently experimental this form may be treated in unusual and unexpected ways but narrative movement is defo part of the mix.

3.Briefer flash fictions below 500 words start to move away from short-story form the shorter they become, building character, plot and narrative momentum using techniques like: subtext; implication; controlled omission; compression; linguistic precision; figures of speech; resonant endings; formal experimentation; titles that reframe and morph; manipulation of white space, pause and stasis; use of charged signifiers and associations that rely on assumed cultural knowledge/ tropes/ memes and symbols; manipulation of implied addressees; use of context to give back story about the nature/ genre of a flash so readers are pre-primed to disseminate particular narrative clues; distinct flash-esque temporal tendencies like writing in the 1st person present tense so the narrator lives the narrative as the reader reads it; linguistic foregrounding so euphonics as well as how words sit on the page are ‘heard’ and ‘seen’ by readers who don’t so much fall into narratives as knowingly process them and in so-doing become bespoke interpreters; placing readers in active, super-engaged headspaces so they become dynamic participants in the storytelling

4. Mid-sized to micro flashes seem to lend themselves to presenting stories in innovative and untraditional ways such as making them lists, instructions, recipes, crime reports, flow charts (the list is seemingly endless and continually extending) a technique  recently described as hermit crab flash writing (because hermit crabs borrow their shells.) But this is a term I dislike. As a practitioner of this sort of flash since before the term exited I dislike it because it implies the shape, form and  on-the-page presence of these flashes comes second to their creation but, for me, this was not the case. My hermit crab flash fictions, came from the shape – were influenced by the constraints presented by the shape. That is to say, I didn’t fit the flash into the shape, the shape gave birth to the flash.

5.Micro fictions (for me) are flash fictions of 400 words and under, which rely heavily on the above techniques especially subtext and shared cultural knowledge the use of which leaves writers able to leave so much unsaid and readers to become more dynamic in the story-telling.

6.Drabbles are flash micros of exactly 100 words which rely more heavily on the above techniques

7.Dribbles are flash micros of exactly 50 words which rely more heavily still on the above techniques

8.Nano fictions are stories of 6-49 words which rely absolutely    on the above techniques.

9.Novellas-in-flash are longer stories formed by sequencing standalone flash fictions that, when presented together, create an overarching narrative or ‘bigger picture’

10.Other ‘in-flash’ story-telling may include short stories ‘in-flash’ and flashes ‘in-flash.’ 

By way of evidencing that final point, here is a flash micro, ‘in-flash’ of mine, which was published in Flash, the International Short short story Journal Vol 12, No. 1 (2024) which is produced by the International Flash Fiction Association at Chester University. This is a slightly edited version from the one that was published there as I have used it to do an academic poster recently, and adapted it accordingly, but here it is – a micro flash, ‘in-flash’. Also I should give a trigger warning, It presents difficult and upsetting images and subject matter.

A Thousand Years of Sugar and Spice

Mistress

‘Tighter and harder,’ barks Miss Georgiana, gripping the fourposter till her fingernails whiten. ‘Tighter and harder. Tighter. Harder.’ Abigail flexes her wrists and spits on her fingers – life won’t be worth living if she draws the laces too roomy or slack, so she sets her teeth and heaves-ho, hauling the whalebone taut as she can before securing the knot with a jacktar’s skill – Ma always said she’d make an abler seaman than Da. Still gasping and panting she takes out her tape measure, breathing a silent amen when her mistress’s waspish waist is the perfect, breathtaking eighteen inches. 

Mother

Cherry blossom petals swirl and flurry, dancing like dragons in the shrieking wind. Ah Lam stares toward the blue mountain, trying not to hear. How hard it is to be a good mother. She drops her gaze and focuses on her own exquisite feet, slight as rosebuds, pure as moonlight, and remembers her own mother’s long-ago words. The pain will pass. And be worth the suffering. For does not the golden lotus endure mid-winter’s cruelest bite before unfolding spotless in joyful spring?

Elder

Aiyana smiles, half nervous, half excited as grandma leads her to the secret hut. Though nothing’s been said, she’s sure it’s her time to share in the mysteries of coming womanhood.  Pausing on the threshold, her heart beats fierce in her throat as she searches grandma’s unreadable face. They pass inside to where sunlight meets shadow. Dirt floor. Pile of rags. Single razorblade glinting silver.


So there you have it. My what-is-flash-as-a-distinct-writing-form starting point, which I will progress as I move through my PhD journey. Yesterday I presented this manifesto at a Celebration of Research at York St John in the form of three slides and 5 minutes waffling on, which wasn’t exactly rocket science compared to some of the other brilliant PhD presentations but I’m really glad I did it because: I met some fab people, attended some useful sessions and signed up for a writing retreat next week.

I didn’t get a photo of me talking at the event, but the first photo at the start of this blog shows my student accommodation for two sleeps which was lovely this time round as it had a double bed. The second is my half-eaten lunch at the event with the extremely classy York St John napkin. My work was part of the post-grad celebration not because it is of any particular merit yet, but writing it did lead to quite a lot of creativity. Experimenting with many of the techniques I identified, I wrote and subbed several flash fictions and micros, one of which is already shortlisted in a fab comp and which will therefore be published and for which I will get paid, so success of a kind. More deets next time when said flash is actually out in the world.

Hostile Environments – the launch

It’s day 7 of my week of blogging to celebrate the publication of Hostile Environments and today I’m mostly promoting the on-line Zoom launch which will be on Thursday night between 7 and 8pm UK time. I’ll put a link to the Eventbrite page where you can book tickets at the end of this blog. It’s free but you do have to book.

But first – plant of the day – Celosia argentea or plumed cockscomb, or silver cock’s comb, or Lagos spinach. I bought this one (pictured here) from Aldi when I was doing a shop earlier in the year. It was sitting outside in that heatwave we had in spring, looking almost dead and I felt sorry for it, so, not knowing what it was I bought it and brought it home, watered it and it grew and grew. I had no idea what it was but it’s easy to identify and turns out it’s considered an invasive weed in parts of India and china and is grown as a beloved veggie in west Africa where it’s served as boiled greens. It thrives in hot sun (if watered adequately) and is easy to grow – just the sort of plant I like then and perfect for my potager’s garden. I think I will always grow it from now onwards – for the gorgeous brightly coloured grassy flower heads, which are soooo lovely as much as for the leaves which do taste very like spinach. It’s a win win win plant – lovely to look at, great to eat and easy to grow. Wish writing stories came so easily. It’s funny because quite often folks are surprised that writing a teeny flash can take such a long time. To be fair, in my life BCW (before creative writing) I too, thought authors just sat down and wrote and there it was finished. I had no idea that writing was re-writing, editing, experimenting with what you’ve got, leaving everything alone to settle in a drawer, coming back to what you’ve written some time later, then maybe repeating that process all over again, and again, and maybe even again.

Mark Twain got it right – he once wrote to a friend, sorry about the long long letter but I didn’t have time to write a short one. And then sometimes stories do just pop out ready formed – you put pen to paper and ta-dah – a flash. For me this is very rare though because I like to experiment and pare things down, to do an Ursula Le Guin i.e. cut down the word count of a story by half – a really fab exercise to do – why not give it a go? It’s amazing when you do it for the first time, you learn a lot about editing, crafting and your own style of writing. Reet going to finish there today because you know – brevity. Will write more about the PhD application later in the week but in the meantime, here is the link for the launch on Thursday where I’ll be doing readings, a lighthearted generating writing ideas ten minutes, and answering questions from Northodox Press. Bring a brew or some fizz or whatever you fancy and spend an hour in cyberspace talking Hostile Environments. https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/hostile-environments-book-launch-tickets-1480973193689?msockid=1f3453cc4e1460930acc46d94f126195

When Shape and Blank Space are Storytelling Too

Day three of my week of blogs then to celebrate publication day for Hostile Environments (tomorrow) and today’s plant of the day is the globe courgette which you can see growing here in a pot on me patio outside the writing shed. I’ve never grown a cucurbit in a pot before – they usually go into the ground in beds as they get so big, and I’ve never grown globe courgettes before this year at all. Never saw one before this year in fact, and now they seem to be everywhere – happen someone hybridised them last summer and are knocking the seeds out cheap. The cucurbit family which includes pumpkins, cucumbers, melons and all manner of gourds is very easy to hybridise – in fact if you gather then keep the seeds from year to year, you never know what you’ll get the following summer. They have male and female flowers that are fertilised by flies that spread the pollen. No fertilisation and the fruits just stay small and drop off, fertilised and they swell into whatever. I planted these globe courgettes in a pot because I forgot to label them as seeds in the greenhouse and wasn’t sure what fruit they would yield until they started to appear and was pleasantly surprised when they became these lovely shiny deep green beauties. They are very good for stuffing and roasting – even the skin in crispy delicious done in the air fryer. What I didn’t expect when growing them, was the early advent of the wee cyclamen underneath. These gorgeous pinky petals usually only poke through much later in the year, bringing showers of pink and red and white to garden as the days start to darken. I’m thinking maybe the shadow cast by the huge green zucchini leaves tricked them into thinking it’s October and so out they popped – and they look so lovely there like a younger, sibling basking in the protective shade of their older sister – which lead me to thinking, on this book-publication-day eve, how stories can change depending on where they are placed inside a book and how they are set on the page. Flash fiction of all the prose forms is the one most aware of how it exists as a form or a shape I reckon. Not always though – sometimes a great flash is a great story written in the (brief) form of a story with a beginning, a middle and an end (in that order). But so often it’s not. So often flash sits on the page aware of the page – like a poem does, making its shape part of the story telling even. In recent times this sort of flash has been called hermit crab flash because – well you can see why – because hermit crabs borrow their shells – but I like the term hybrid flash better because quite often non-conformist flash fictions don’t borrow a shape , they are the shape. The storytelling, the beating heart of the story – its life and soul comes from the shape – it’s not an afterthought or tacked on afterwards. Here’s one of my flash fictions that does what I just described. How it sits on the page, the blank spaces in between the words even, the pause and moments of quiet, the emptiness are all part of the intrinsic storytelling. And so too is the juxtaposition of the form and story which at once jar against each other and meld together – a bit like the lovely cyclamen and the huge courgettes – strange but satisfying flower bed fellows. But before you read it – I just remembered that, yet again I’ve not mentioned that bloody PhD application thang I’ve been banging on about for three days now. Tomorrow it will have to be…

How To Keep The Hunger At Bay

By Jan Kaneen

  1. Preheat oven to 180 degrees then go pick apples. In the wet’s best, on the darkest day of autumn, when everything smells of mold and mushrooms and the garden looks like rust and cinders. But don’t let the fruit ruin waiting for perfection.
  2. Stand under gnarled branches catching raindrops, marveling at how young the skin on your palm looks, not like the windfallen wrinkles everywhere else.
  3. Place apples in appropriate receptacle. I use a trug made from sheets of birch. It’s got a long flat bottom so the apples lie side-by-side without bruising when I hurry down garden to get out of the weather.
  4. Wipe fruit carefully so skins shine like wintery cheeks, like Georgy’s used to when he came inside for a warm on snowy days and the stove was lit.
  5. Don’t peel. A little skin will give the edges a ruddy tinge, and anyway, it’s good for you – full of roughage and it makes your hair curl – least that’s what I always told him when he used to pull his face.
  6. Slice into cored crescents that look like rose petals and place into buttered tart dish. I arrange mine in circular swirls that coil inward and make a pattern that looks like forever.
  7. Make caramel by heating butter and sugar. Most recipes say not to stir but I do because that’s the bit he loved best – standing on his three-legged stool at the cooker in his Winnie-the-Pooh apron, watching the crystals dissolve into liquid gold, like alchemy.
  8. Add four pinches of cinnamon. One for mummy, one for daddy and two for Georgy, then a squeeze of lemon. An edge of sharpness is necessary to cut through the syrup.
  9. Pour over apples then take block of shop-bought pastry from fridge. This is a matter of preference of course, so feel free to adapt to personal circumstance, but forty-odd years of following this recipe has taught me life’s too short for homemade rough-puff.
  10. Roll thin and place on top of apples, tucking in edges like a child’s blanket, then bake for fifty minutes.
  11. As scent of caramelized apples creeps like yesterday into warm kitchen, pour a glass of something lovely and remember – when you planted the sapling a lifetime ago, when it meant nothing and you were so impossibly numb-and-sensitive-at-the-same-time you couldn’t feel anything though everything still managed to hurt – opening your eyes, birdsong, hearing your own name… and a year later when you finally scattered ashes round the reedy stem… and the year after that, harvesting the first crop.
  12. Smile or cry. It doesn’t matter which.
  13. Take tart from oven and cool, but not too much. Grief, hope, love, remembrance – all are dishes best served warm.
  14. Eat as many slices as you need, savouring every last bitter-sweet mouthful until you’re so tip-top full to the brim you think you’ll never be able to manage another bite.
  15. Take another bite.

Weeks Like These…

…don’t come along very often for writers of strange, surreal, non-conventional and not all that commercial fiction. That is to say weeks in which your third book is published, so going to blog every day till Sunday, by way of celebration.

Been thinking about the industry that is publishing a lot in the run up to Thursday (launch day for Hostile Environments) – and its a weird old business I reckon. Though I’m on my third book, I’ve not got an agent and to be fair I’ve never really tried to get one other than via entering stories into comps that agents might see. And the longer my agentless status has gone on, the more I’ve become totally fine about it because at the end of the day I don’t write to eat. If I did it might be different but I started writing 10 years ago to sort my head out and see if I could. And it really worked for me and my mental health which has made me super grateful and I find it proper strange that so many people in this weird society we live in, want to monetise everything, even creativity. It’s like nothing has a purpose without the wonga it generates, and loads of people I know quite well still ask how much I earn/expect to earn from my writing, what I’ve sold, what I’ve won prize-money wise. And I’m not gunna lie – when I first started writing, the prize winning was great fun, and vindication too – but the longer I’ve gone on, the more I just like winning to get my work read, not necessarily sold (though all prize money is very gratefully accepted). My new collection of dark short stories and flash fictions is never going to sell a million copies. There I’ve said it. It’s short fiction, and weird, unconventional short fiction at that. Agents always seem to want to know when they’re asking for pitches, where books would sit in bookshops and which best sellers they’re most like. Strange that something new and entirely different is never wanted. Not at first. I have no idea where Hostile Environments would sit on a book shelf in Waterstones other than in the short story or flash fiction section. Or maybe on a table with other titles by indie publishers. When my publisher, Northodox decided to publish my book, they knew they would not be retiring on the proceeds. They took it on because my words spoke to them, because they loved my stories and wanted to get them read. And that’ll do for me. I want to get my stories read too. In fact its super important to me that they do get read, because I don’t really think a story’s finished till its been shared with other minds. Flash fiction demands a lot of its readers – with its concision, brevity and implication. Flash readers have to really lean in and join metaphorical dots – so much so, a well crafted flash can mean one thing to one reader and something totally different to another, and it’s that meeting of minds that I love about being a writer of it. So you see unread flash fiction really is unfinished flash fiction to my way of thinking.

Also. This. Imagine that in 100 years someone finds one of my books in a charity shop book sale say, or cyber-mines it from a long dead website, or digs one up from a ruined library in the aftermath of a war we have not yet foreseen – and they read one of my stories and it fires their neurones and their brains spring into action making synaptic leaps and other connections – and though I will be long dead and my atoms will be scattered, my mind will have connected with another human being over swathes of time and from beyond the grave, just because I wrote some stories and Northodox had the presence of mind to publish them in print and digitally. People think quantum entanglement is mind-blowingly weird and wonderful – but so is reading and writing -i t’s sorcery, and time-travel and telepathy all at the same time.

Anyhoo, back on planet earth, last week, I did an interview with the folk at Northodox about writing and creating. Here’s the link if you fancy having a read https://www.northodox.co.uk/post/author-interview-jan-kaneen and if you do feel moved to pre order a copy of Hostile Environments all the deets are there.

But in the meantime, here’s me doing a reading of one of my flashes that I just recorded especially for this blog. It’s not from Hostile Environments as I explain on the vid, but as I’m going to post every day this week, thought I’d release some of my stranger flash fictions into the wild too. Here’s the link to where it appears online as text ,if you prefer https://theshortstory.co.uk/words-and-sayings-by-jan-kaneen/ and below is my recording which carries a trigger warning with ref to toxic societal gender assumptions and uses sayings that would cause offence in their usual contexts, but hopefully not in this one, though they might well still be shocking. Reet that’s it for Monday. See you tomorrow when I will talk about the new project I have started to pursue – applying to York St John to do a creative writing PhD. Until tomorrow then. Oh yes and If you were wondering about the pot of flowers at the start of this post. Going to do a ‘flower of the day’ each day here too. I love growing flowers and veggies as well as stories and today I’m celebrating teeny lobelia and how though they might be small, they bring humongous joy.